Tail of the tale
by Miss Malice
Summary: "We all wound up on Tatooine"... again. Obi-Wan delivers the most unexpected package to his family ;-) Rated for swearing... but it was worth it ;-)
1. Strays

Untitled Document

> Acknowledgements: first things first, thanks to Elyse for her infinite patience and beta-reading! And also thanks to enthusiastic SWFans whose writings gave me some good ideas for this story ;-) 
> 
> Disclaimer: oh please! If I could ever profit from *this*... 
> 
> A/N: ah, and all odd ideas of Obi's family background are mine (TM ;-) I like 'what if'-s, you know... 
> 
> **Tail of the Tale **
> 
> **(part one)**
> 
> _The pale blue blade drew a perfect arc in the air. Obi-Wan caught the weapon, deactivated it and hung it on his belt in one smooth reflexive move. Anakin grinned at him, wavered on the edge for a split-second and stepped back. And there was only a fiery chasm behind him. _
> 
> "Anakin!!!" 
> 
> Obi-Wan rushed forward, and the floor cracked under his feet... 
> 
> * 
> 
> He woke up and lay motionlessly in dim light. It took him a few seconds to recall who, where and why he was. He could still smell that foul smoke in the sterile air of the cabin, and his throat was sore as if he had actually cried out... Obi-Wan sighed and scrambled up. He was supposed to sleep, to rest, not to stalk the alleys of an old nightmare. The dream did not come back for a while and he let himself relax. Loosen the grip a bit. How foolish of him. 
> 
> He pulled himself together - automatically, just like he parried lightsabre thrusts in the dream. Rest time was over. 
> 
> Padmé was already waiting for him in the cockpit. A fair amount of make-up turned her into a middle-class, middle-aged woman everyone would pass by, but deep dark shades on her face were not a part of the disguise. Her eyes seemed as dusty as the great Tatooinean plains. Her hands clenched over the crib were so thin... 
> 
> "You did not sleep," Obi-Wan whispered with a mild reproach. 
> 
> "And you look like hell," she replied with a smile and straightened herself. "Our captain says the speeder is ready." 
> 
> "Then let us go. We must cross the ridge before dawn." 
> 
> They went down the ramp to a thing proudly called landspeeder. It was certainly older than the Queen; it could be older than the Jedi Knight. Beside the speeder they looked suspiciously _clean_, but it would change in a few minutes. Obi-Wan hoped they would be saved from some dust and heat inside the cabin. It was the only transport they had managed to purchase this quickly, and every minute spent in the city meant danger, danger, danger... 
> 
> The ship's captain, _their_ captain, saluted when they took off and could not see him, then he sealed the door. 
> 
> "Here end friendly lands," murmured Padmé. She breathed in hot dry air and remembered how faithful Panaka resisted taking his Queen to this miserable planet. To this miserable planet where she had met her fate... _Not now._ She checked on the package carefully settled in the back seat. If they could know that time. If only. 
> 
> Kenobi watched the road, or rather their course marked on the navigator's map: there were not many real roads on Tatooine. He watched the road, fighting an entire bouquet of feelings, irritation being the best of them. His home world. It sounded way better than it looked. He had never suffered from homesickness like some other Jedi students, he had never dreamed of discovering his home world, and when he landed on Tatooine for the very first time all he wanted was to get out. And yet he was doomed to come and come back. He smiled and pursed his already cracked lips. _Welcome damn home._
> 
> The small speeder crossed the range of low rocky mountains when the first lights of dawn licked the sky. Their further course was laid through a ragged sandy plain. It dodged about, rounding canyons and precipices, almost doubling the straight way's length. They decided to lose some time but to win in security: no one would help them out of some crackle. They did not talk: the breath of the Desert dried their throats and the words themselves. The monotonous landscape blurred in the hot air, reminding them of a race in Mos Espa a long time ago... 
> 
> Padmé concentrated on her precious package. Obi-Wan shot her a sidelong glance. No wonder most men grew overprotective around her, so young, so beautiful, so gentle... So fragile - that's what they thought of Padmé Naberrie. They were wrong. It was her will that led them here across the whole Galaxy, through Imperial control posts, through the chaos - and against their best friends' wishes. It was her strength that held them all from despair. It was her word against Organa's that settled the cause and saved his honor. Young Bail Organa was a man - a gentleman - too, after all... Obi-Wan shook his head. Must be some effect of the Desert, that crusty timelessness creeping slowly into your veins, making you feel as old as these dunes. Nothing else. 
> 
> The dunes parted, and the battered vehicle slipped down into another valley - only there was a small moisture farm in this one. Obi-Wan hit the brakes. The speeder stopped in a thick cloud of dust, a few feet from the perimeter. 
> 
> Welcome home. 
> 
> * 
> 
> They watched them coming, three silhouettes in the doorframe. Obi-Wan blinked, his step faltered. He had learned a lot about Tatooine and his family back in the Temple. He had won several battles over his own memory, over his right to know... He came prepared for everything this planet could throw at him. Everything but this. He stopped at the threshold and looked in her sea-green, sea-deep eyes. 
> 
> She was small, not taller than Padmé, very slight, very old; she looked like the next breath of wind could blow her away. She smiled at him, raised her translucent hand and wiped some dust off his face. 
> 
> "You are so tall, Ben." 
> 
> Stene Kenobi Lars. His mother. A force stronger than the Force itself. 
> 
> * 
> 
> "Like hell we do!" 
> 
> "I am not asking for myself," Obi-Wan said, a cold steely edge lining his words this time. He got used to the _new_ attitude towards the Jedi. He could tolerate Bail Organa's insults. But he was not going to fight with his own brother, and Owen would not go for a battle of wits. His 'no' was as plain and hard as the sandy frying pan his house stood on. 
> 
> They were alone in the room. Stene and Beru, Owen's wife, took Padmé to the inner yard and were now serving 'famous Epa ice tea'. Obi-Wan could only hope the women did not hear their... _conversation_. He saw Beru's eyes shine from within when the crib was opened. Only it would take more than his own and Beru's efforts combined to convince this stubborn brother of his... 
> 
> "Who do you think you are, coming here like this?" hissed Owen. "Where have you been all these years, _Kenobi_? Or was it too small a place for a Jedi to bother? Where have you been when those Tusken bastards killed our father? When we had to live on Epa weed for _months_ to keep this sodding farm? Ah, damn, and now you come trying to involve _my_ family in some bloody _affair_ of yours? It stinks, Jedi." 
> 
> It cut deep, deeper than Owen could imagine, but Obi-Wan did not flinch from it. The Jedi revere the truth. 
> 
> "I did not know any of those," he said quietly. "I have only learned about my family half a year ago." Owen snorted giving him his best 'I don't buy this crap' look. "And if I dare come here and ask something from you now, it's because I trust you with their lives." 
> 
> Owen sneered, and then they heard it, a woman laughing. The sound, simple, clear and beautiful, rang in the air. It was not Padmé; Obi-Wan still remembered her laughter though he doubted he would ever hear it again. It was Beru. Owen's face fell. 
> 
> "Gods, she hasn't laughed like that for ages..." _She cannot bear a child, I know._ "How dare you, you..." Owen turned away. "That baby of yours, is he... Has he got that Jedi thing in him?" he asked in a strangled voice. 
> 
> "Yes." 
> 
> "No," his brother shook his head violently, "we can't do it." _Not another one._
> 
> "I see." 
> 
> "You and the lady, you may stay here for a night. The lands are dangerous in the dark." 
> 
> "Thank you." 
> 
> Force be blessed, he did not need to explain anything to Padmé. She read it all on his pale face. 
> 
> "Shall we leave now?" 
> 
> Beru bit her lip, Stene clasped her hands, and Owen glared at them all, his face being bright red with anger and just a little - with shame. 
> 
> "No, we shall stay. For a night." 
> 
> "Oh, that's right," said Stene with a strange gleam in her young eyes. "Come, dear, there's a nice little room for you..." 
> 
> * 
> 
> When night fell in the desert a few hours later, the Lars farm was very quiet. Beru and Owen slept in their, so cold tonight, bed. Padmé slept behind a makeshift screen in the nice little room. Even little Luke slept sweetly in his crib. Happy soul, he had no ruined hopes to spoil his dreams. Only Obi-Wan Kenobi sat in his comfortable chair, staring at a small night-light. He has told himself he was trying to find some other way out of this dead-end. 
> 
> _Afraid, afraid, come on, admit it, you are simply afraid to sleep here._
> 
> A way out would not show up. He spent hours meditating, days pondering on it before coming up with this brilliant idea. There was no plan B. He's been thinking of it tonight until his head threatened to blow, yet he hadn't found that other way. All his roads led here, to his family house. If only he hadn't screwed it up. If only... 
> 
> "Why aren't you sleeping, son?" 
> 
> "I can't." 
> 
> He smiled despite of himself. Her mere presence seemed to light the room. Stene bent over the crib, admiring little sleeping beauty. Obi-Wan tried to erase that silly grin from his face - and failed. 
> 
> "The boy has got it," he whispered. "He attracts women like a magnet." 
> 
> His mother smiled back. "He's a very special boy." 
> 
> Obi-Wan wondered what she saw in Luke. From a certain point of view they all were nothing but fragile sparks of living light in night eternal. Perhaps some sparks shone brighter... 
> 
> "He will see better times." 
> 
> _If there will be better times,_ Obi-Wan thought. _If there will be anything worth to see._
> 
> "He is meant for good, they just have to see." 
> 
> "I am sorry. I should not have..." 
> 
> His mother stepped back from the crib and shook her head, just like her younger son. 
> 
> "Ben, look at me," she said solemnly and he obeyed, surprised. "I am only an old woman. I know only what I see, and that's very little. But from all I see, I am proud of you, son of mine." 
> 
> His mother was proud of him. And he did not retort that there was nothing to be proud of. He did not recall all his faults and mistakes. Instead, for the first time in many days, he relaxed and had an absurdly good feeling about this venture. His universe had contracted to the size of soothingly cool palm on his forehead... 
> 
> "Sleep now, stubborn one." 
> 
> He was asleep before she left the room. He had no dreams that night. 
> 
> ~ 
> 
> TBC in Part Two... 


	2. Sands of Time

Tail of the Tale 

> **Tail of the Tale **
> 
> **(part two)**
> 
> 'Twas just another hot summer day on Tatooine. A speeder bike stopped at the perimeter of a small farm in the middle of a sunburned plain. The driver - a tall cloaked man covered in yellow dust - stepped out. He cleared his throat and walked slowly towards the entrance, casually glancing around. Memories, images of the past, invisible to anyone else but this windswept stranger, whirled around. And he let them be. Pictures of long and not so very long ago merged with the one of right here, right now. 
> 
> Virtually nothing had changed since his last visit, just some pretty rusty machinery was added. Right now one of the devices was smoking suspiciously, he could smell it from afar. Just another weekday... A boy of about five ran out of the subterranean house and turned the machine off. The dusty traveler stumbled watching him. This boy could be the farmer's son. The twin suns had already marked his fair hair, tan skin and faded clothes that once were white. He opened the jacket with a look of an expert, trying to locate the trouble, when something blocked the light. 
> 
> On a farm like this you'd rather meet an alien than a human stranger. Surprised, the boy stared at the visitor with wide-open big blue eyes. The stranger didn't smile, but his look grew much warmer. 
> 
> "Good day... Luke." 
> 
> The boy blinked, amazed, and said the first thing that came to mind: "Do I know you?" 
> 
> "Is it the way to answer when someone wishes you a good day?" A young woman appeared in the doorframe. She ruffled Luke's hair and smiled cordially at the stranger... But then she looked at him closely, her smile fading away. "Ben!.. What a... surprise for us." 
> 
> "Good day to you too," said Ben Kenobi. 
> 
> "Ah, yes, a good day," replied Beru Lars, even more astounded than young Luke was. "C-come in, please." 
> 
> "No, thank you. I will not stay for long." 
> 
> Relief immediately replaced her anxiety, like a flash on the steady background of Luke's intense curiosity. Exactly what he's been expecting. But there was something else, something important lurked beneath, a darker tendril of uneasiness... He knew it before she said it. 
> 
> "Stene, she's..." 
> 
> "I know." She's gone. His mother. Among so many others! He'd gotten used to loss, and it was nice to _find_ something after all. "Let me thank you, Beru. We owe you very much." 
> 
> "What took you both so long?" - an impatient voice sounded close at hand, and Mr.Lars showed up. He stared at Ben Kenobi in turn, and his face grew gloomy. "What a..." 
> 
> Beru instinctively put her hands on Luke's shoulders, drawing him closer. Ben pointed with his eyes at the woman and the child. Owen glowered at him, but had to agree to watch his mouth. He wasn't going to stand it, anyway. 
> 
> "Come, Luke," sighed Beru taking the boy's hand and entering the house. "We've got much work to do." 
> 
> The last thing the men could see before the door closed quietly was Luke's face, as he could not help looking back... 
> 
> The brothers looked at each other. Years were hard on them both. Brothers, they had nothing in common. Owen stood firmly on the ground like a monument to the good old patriarchal lifestyle. He seemed to absorb the very essence of the place. He belonged here, and this plot of land belonged to him. And Ben... Despite of all sand and dust he still looked as if he belonged to some better place, even if it didn't exist anymore. One man was lost in the desert, the other could hold all the sands of Tatooine among many other worlds. Of course, Owen didn't bother to put his thoughts into exact words, but he felt unsettled enough to lower his voice. 
> 
> "I thought you Jedi have an idea of keeping their word, at least." 
> 
> "I remember my words. I have not come to break the deal." 
> 
> "So what the heck are you doing here? What's screwed up this time?" 
> 
> Ben Kenobi suppressed a sarcastic grin. Screwed up, indeed... 
> 
> "Generally speaking, some people cannot share the Galaxy." 
> 
> "Politicians," spat Owen. "It doesn't concern us here." 
> 
> _Oh, I see_, Kenobi didn't say. 
> 
> "So far, so good. I thought it would be a nice place to settle for a while. Just passed by to greet my new neighbors." 
> 
> Owen Lars choked on his tirade. Kenobi's impenetrable tranquility was enough to drive anyone mad, but this last one was outrageous! All he was able to do was to repeat the words that had shocked him: "To settle... here?!" 
> 
> "Well, not right here. The planet is big enough for the two of us, I hope..." Ben waited for a reply and added with a charming smile, "I will not be a frequent visitor." 
> 
> "O thank you! Fine! Is that all?" 
> 
> "Yes... Thank you for patience. And, Owen? Watch your back." He took a ceremonial bow - _damned Jedi rote habits_ - and strode away. 
> 
> The bike started after a few well-aimed kicks. In a couple of seconds it disappeared leaving a dust trail and a fuming farmer behind. 
> 
> _Watch your back._ It was not a threat but a friendly warning... Owen - thankfully - did not possess any Jedi traits, but he could feel it, too, something bad and inevitable like a summer sandstorm. He must have stood there, unusually thoughtful, for a long time, and Beru's quiet appearance by his side startled him. 
> 
> "What?!" 
> 
> "He's your only brother, after all," she shrugged. 
> 
> "So what?!! He's an alien here. An outlaw. His ways are NOT our ways, and... it's better like that." They stared out in the desert, silent for a while. Hot dry wind whistled around. The lone trace on the sand has quickly disappeared. "By the way, our power convertor is down and half of the household units have fused. You'd better think of it." 
> 
> "Sure." 
> 
> * 
> 
> Beru curled up cozily in a chair with Owen's jacket. It was well worn but still good and needed just a little refreshing. Besides, this kind of work was pacifying, and she needed it for real. She barely could stand the tense atmosphere in the house. First, Owen was... _upset_ with his brother's unexpected visit, and then he brawled with Luke about it as well. She had heard him yelling. Beru sighed. The boy grew remarkably headstrong, a good match to her husband, and the combination was highly explosive. She sighed again. _And he is only five..._ Luke was a special boy and he needed a special upbringing, maybe, but they were simple farmers, and a farmer he would most probably become. 
> 
> And still... 
> 
> Luke came in carrying a burned household droid's powerband belt and a bunch of reserve elements. He flopped down on the chair next to Beru and started fixing. Twelve tiny contacts per element. Beru was ready to say something comforting, but since the boy obviously wasn't in a talkative mood and seemed so concentrated upon his chore, she said nothing. Luke sniffed, threw his flaxen hair back from his eyes and took the next gadget... 
> 
> Sniff. Click. 
> 
> The irony was that the same household droid would make the job better, faster and with much more enthusiasm. And Luke had never suffered from surplus of patience. 
> 
> Click. 
> 
> The circuit has been closed. Even Beru could tell it was alright now. 
> 
> Click. Click. Click. 
> 
> She flinched and raised her head to see the boy clicking the switch with no purpose. 
> 
> "Hey, cut it down. I see you're upset, but one angry man in the house is enough." 
> 
> Luke looked up at her and she was surprised to see him not as much upset or angry as... thoughtful. 
> 
> "Sorry." 
> 
> He wrapped his arms around him, hard in thought of something too complicated for a 5-year-old boy. 
> 
> "What is it, Luke?" 
> 
> "What's wrong if I ask a question or two?" 
> 
> Aha, that's it. "Nothing, I guess, unless you talk about the things someone doesn't like." 
> 
> "Phhh," said Luke meaning, _*Someone* certainly doesn't like much_. 
> 
> "Now, Luke..." 
> 
> "I just tried to ask who that odd man was, big deal!" 
> 
> _O yes,_ Beru thought, _a big deal_. The best way to drive Owen mad. And she's got to settle it, like it always happens. Oh dear. 
> 
> "Whoever loafs about the sands..." she said trying to exhaust the subject, and it hadn't worked. 
> 
> "But he's not a 'whoever', is he?" _Quite right, Luke_. "Who is he anyway? Is he bad?" Why else would uncle Owen explode like that? 
> 
> "He's... different. We should not judge the others just because they're not like us... I guess," she muttered when her husband entered the room. 
> 
> "And it's so... weird. I can't remember him, but he knows my name and I feel I know him somehow..." Luke stopped, tied up in knots, but that definitely was not all. 
> 
> "Well, uh," began Beru, stepping on a shaky ground, "he's just a neighbor," - she glowered at Owen. _You're not helping me, you know!_ "His name is Ben Kenobi, and he lives out there across the Dune Sea. That's all," - at least that was more like it. 
> 
> "And if you don't wanna get yourself in trouble, stay away from him," Owen Lars added firmly, pointing his finger at the boy to stress the importance of the message. 
> 
> "Ow... Okay," nodded Luke, confused. 
> 
> "Stay _away_ from him!.. Oh well, how's that belt going?" 
> 
> * 
> 
> Outside and above the room a sandstorm was about to begin. The wind was throwing handfuls of sand at the walls almost playfully, having not had reached its rage point yet. Crusty timelessness wound round the small farm with a raspy rustle. It had all the time in the world. It could wait for a little boy and for an old beyond his age man with sky-blue eyes. It remembered the eyes. The sand hissed in thin hot air... Yes, it would wait. 
> 
> ~ 
> 
> End... 


End file.
